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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24808144">our revels now are ended</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/caihongs/pseuds/neopunch'>neopunch (caihongs)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>this thing of darkness i acknowledge mine [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A Little Gorey, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Truman Show Fusion, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, M/M, Slightly graphic, Strangers to Lovers, Supernatural Elements, ish</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:35:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,035</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24808144</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/caihongs/pseuds/neopunch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Renjun remembers the day he signed his soul off to the harbinger of dreams and death. Remembers Mark Lee from Canada, sitting next to him in class on his first day and asking for his name and a spare pencil. He remembers printing neatly his name on the line and signing below. He remembers feeling all too powerful for a mere mortal, but the remembrance of Mark’s smile anchored him back to Earth, when he said that he was grateful for someone like him. New kids almost always get bullied in the movies, he said with a genial smile.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Huang Ren Jun/Mark Lee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>this thing of darkness i acknowledge mine [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827181</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>our revels now are ended</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i don't know what to call this alternate universe? The Truman Show but make it renjun? The Renjun Show? </p><p>i wrote this in one sitting for four hours, so if that shows i'm so very sorry- hope you enjoy it nevertheless!</p><p>title taken from the tempest by shakespeare for the meta-theatre of it all</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s how every first love goes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From first look from across the room, first graze of hands in the corridors, first awkward conversation about something entirely inane, to the first realisation that you might actually be in love with the person and not with them representing the hallmark of love that self-aware fifteen-year-old you believed was the case all along. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It starts off slow and then snowballs rapidly when you become hyper-aware of their hand on your shoulder, your name rolling off their lips, their eyes on you, and their listening ear when you don’t think anyone is listening at all. It’s awful, the way your body fizzles to life like a game of Operation whenever they so much as recognise your general existence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s all-consuming and something Renjun didn’t know he could emotionally or physically stomach. He hadn’t entertained the thought even when he was a hair’s length away from kissing Mark under the dim patio lights of a stranger-turned-classmates’ home, nor when the words were jammed in his throat when Mark had leant against the fence of the bridge and stared at him for too long and with too much clarity in his eyes to be categorised as a ‘daze’. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It comes to him like a memory triggered by a sense. An olfactory memory, one that conjures up the scene for him without having to rein in anything else. Call it a dormant volcano, or literally anything else under the sun that’s out of his mortal control. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So when Renjun admits to himself that his first love is Mark, it doesn’t so much as shock him as it does suffocate his heart from inside out, like someone shoved their hand into his chest and wrung his heart dry. Acceptance is the first step but Renjun doesn’t even feel halfway there when Mark kisses Jaemin like a starved man the minute he finishes his winning lap at the swim meet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s how every first love goes, Renjun tells himself when he bikes home after the event, like some miserable protagonist of a coming-of-age movie, his flannel blowing out behind him as he passes the river and turns around the bend into another back street, slowing down as to not disturb the cat that always sleeps nestled in between the hanging vines and the brick wall, and is just about to skid into the courtyard of his apartment building, before someone calls out:</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Renjun!”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Lo and behold, it’s the first love himself. Air-dried black hair in his eyes, glasses pressed against the tops of his cheeks, a smile characteristically bright for the seasoned heartbreaker he is. He’s not even puffed out even though Renjun is sure he’s biked at least four kilometres from the public pool, but when Renjun takes off his helmet and makes cautious steps towards Mark, he can spot the sweat dripping down his temple.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“You dipped so quick, I thought we were going to grab food after?” Renjun puts on his best smile, tucking his helmet under his arm and shoving his other hand in his pocket.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“I— sorry I’ve just got some work due tomorrow, maybe next time?” Renjun asks, tinging his voice with hope even though he’s perfectly fine with maybe never seeing Mark again, but the guy just laughs. That stupid, loud laugh of his. He looks at Renjun like he’s looking through glass, having sensed the lie running off his person like a waterfall.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“All good Renjun, I’ll catch you later then?” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a lie. When they’re back at school on Monday, his eyes immediately wander towards black hair and glasses and the State Swimmer hoodie that has faded from cobalt blue to dusty grey. He couldn’t keep his eyes off him even if he wanted to, and if Chenle notices anything awry, he doesn’t say anything and keeps his chin hooked on Renjun’s shoulder, humming the tune of a song Renjun remembers faintly coming out from Mr Zhong’s old stereo the other week.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It fucking sucks, being the person without the happy ending but Renjun takes it if he can rejoice in the other elements that make his life as picturesque as it is.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>In this script, his first love is the swimmer with the handsome boyfriend, his best friend is living, breathing sunshine in the shape of a sixteen-year-old boy, and he is the boy with the blue bike and the inability to feel anything other than love in overwhelming amounts. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The film ends with a shitty resolution. Mark breaks up with Jaemin because after some fairly vapid experiences together, he finally recognises Renjun for who he is, realises how much bearing he actually has on Mark’s life and his behaviour despite them having said vapid experiences together, whether it be Renjun biking Mark back home after he magically appears right outside the pool after Mark has a bad practice session, or them sharing soggy fries and Mark realises how handsome Renjun is when he smiles, or something equally as unpalatable. Yet, by the powers that be, Renjun has already left for college, getting out of their tiny big city in search of a purpose greater, where life is not perpetually coloured summer, with unattainable boys at the ready to shoot out sporadically like a broken tennis ball machine.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Renjun is tired of this part, but he does it for the pretty calico cat by the bend of the back alley that is lit by one singular streetlamp. For the best friend who will support him through thick and thin, for the lovely food he gets to consume and for the wind that breezes through his hair that reminds him that he is still human before all of this. Or he was, at one point. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>This is the first roll of film, ready to ship off to some indie company who’ll make big bucks at the cinemas for all of the bases it’s covered with the plot. Keeping those dazed and confused teenagers at their beck and call, ready for the next thing Renjun will star in. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes them a while. Good things take time, Renjun supposes. It takes about another six movies, all of equal or lesser standing than the first in the series, before Mark starts to get it.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Renjun, can— can I ask you something?” They’re adults now, freshmen in university although Renjun has lived completed six Intro to Photography classes at this point, and Mark is the guy whom Renjun calls on for his project requiring a muse. It’s not new, but it’s a fun one. Reminds him of Jaemin, whom he misses dearly despite it all. When they bring him back as a second lead or a rival love interest again, maybe in the next movie since Donghyuck has done his fair share for the last few, Renjun will make sure he treats him to something special. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shoot.” He flicks through a further couple of photos. Mark has looked the same in the past five but he pretends he still needs to review them while Mark takes his time in formulating this question.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this your sixth time? You know, um—” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Acting?” Renjun is surprised, that’s for sure. But someone is watching and he masks it, showing Mark the camera screen.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, wait, what are you—-” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sh, the bushes can hear you.” Renjun places his index finger to his lips, and gestures Mark to look at the screen and he thumbs at the buttons.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have, have we been doing this thing for a long time? It feels like I’ve just woken up from a month long nap.” Mark murmurs, mimicking looks of embarrassment and blushing coyly for the eyes in the bushes and in the trees. Renjun smiles to himself. He’s gotten better.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Approximately ten years, give or take. Though, this is the first time you’ve realised that you know...” </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s all fake. You and I aren’t really in love. I sacrificed something dear in exchange for a life framed in nostalgia.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I don’t know what brought this on, but I think I started realising about, uh, two films ago? Remember the flower shop one?” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>A part of Renjun wants Mark to specify which one just for the fun of it, since they’ve tried that trope out twice, each being just as bad as the other, but he knows which one he’s talking about. They got bad reviews on Mark’s behalf, something about the chemistry between them being close to non-existent, Mark being a stone-cold university student who was incapable of showing or receiving love from the romantic Renjun. The powers that be, ironically it seems, saw that as their sign to not try that one out again. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“We got terrible box office numbers for that one, thanks to you.” Cognizant Mark laughs at that one, just as loud and stupid as before, but there’s a tinge of something new in it. Renjun wants to hear more. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Apologies,” he whispers as he nudges his body even closer to Renjun’s. Their thighs are touching and Mark is leaning way too close for this soon in the film, but Renjun doesn’t flinch. He stays still, even when Mark’s arm curls around to pinch at his ear.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know we have at least five more scenes before you get to touch me like this.” It’s not supposed to sound sensual but Mark, being the seventeen-year-old he really is inside, giggles.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, I just want this one to end quickly. I’ve been disliking the plot the more I think about it.” The absolute lack of humour in that one speaks to Renjun on an entirely new level and he realises just how much he’s missed human interaction. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“You and me both Mark, why don’t we just get this over and done with, hm?” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s still the swimmer boy with the hot boyfriend. The bitter, heartbroken-once-too-many sophomore student with a void for a heart. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>But when Renjun drops his camera in his lap and surges to kiss him, it’s entirely different.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s warm. And Mark for once, kisses him back with a ferocity that Renjun has never seen from him before. They’re almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>in</span>
  </em>
  <span> the bushes at this point, and Renjun’s fingers are gripping onto Mark’s shirt for dear life as  the elder swoops in for another one, one hand at the back of Renjun’s neck and the other planted on the surface of the park stool for purchase. Mark bites Renjun’s lip, garnering a yelp from him before Renjun senses that they’re acting too out of character for his comfort.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” Mark reels back like a dog scolded by its owner and Renjun wipes the spit from his mouth with the back of his hand. To be a devil, he wipes the sheen off Mark’s lips with the same hand and smears it all over his black shirt.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>At this point, he can sense the pathetic fallacy coming. Thunder will roll in, they’ll have to take cover, Mark gets a call from Donghyuck about an emergency of some sort, something about him losing a sentimental piece of jewellery at the beach Britney Spears style, leaving Renjun in the rain only for him to get run over by a speeding car, and well. The rest is pretty self-explanatory. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>But it doesn’t happen. Mark is waiting too, still shocked at the fact that there’s now a gross dried spit stain across his shirt but still conscious of his surroundings.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>A hushed murmur echoes from a rhododendron bush a few metres down from where they are.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Did you just see that?</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They just skipped out on an entire forty minutes…</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do you think we have to— </span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was supposed to be twenty… no eighteen?</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But how— I thought he…</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Something must have happened, we might…</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The camera is still in his lap. For the first time, Renjun’s heart is racing and sweat is gathering in his palms as he stares at Mark intently. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Still as handsome as the first time he saw him. His bangs are down, he’s still retained somewhat of an athletic build, his eyes are still the reflection of a million galaxies concentrated into two petri dishes for irises. He is still the boy Renjun found himself falling in love with time and time again. His eternal first love, his first and last love, the one he’s found himself inextricably drawn to since time immeasurable.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Renjun remembers the day he signed his soul off to the harbinger of dreams and death. Remembers Mark Lee from Canada, sitting next to him in class on his first day and asking for his name and a spare pencil. He remembers printing neatly his name on the line and signing below. He remembers feeling all too powerful for a mere mortal, but the remembrance of Mark’s smile anchored him back to Earth, when he said that he was grateful for someone like him. New kids almost always get bullied in the movies, he said with a genial smile.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He can’t even hear the murmuring anymore, and Mark leans in again.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know we’ve just met, but do you trust me?” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the first line of their fourth film together. Mark shouldn’t remember it but he does, and before Renjun can even give him a response, they’re running.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s stupid. He’s sure Mark knows that there’s no door leading out of the set and into the real world this time around. But Loud and Stupid Mark does what he knows best and they find themselves in front of a bridge, where a wide stretch of water welcomes them with eager hands.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you remember what happened the last time we were at a bridge?” Mark asks, his hand still wrapped around Renjun’s as he takes in the view. The sun is dying at the hands of the horizon, dispersing its colour across the line where the water meets the sky.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“You told me you wanted to ask Jeno and Donghyuck out on a date.” Renjun hates that one the most. Mark was so indecisive, it drove him insane and it took three goddamn hours of mutual pining, painful unrequited love, some awful scenes written to cause Renjun grief and strife, before Mark shot this line at him and he almost threw the guy over the bridge.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, not that one. Before.” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mark looks at him like he’s only thing that exists in the world. The entire universe is planted in his eyes and Renjun feels oddly unafraid at confronting the entire world as he knows it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He loves Mark. More than words can say and time can tell and the world would ever know.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But he won’t say it, even if Mark continues to look at him this way. Like he doesn’t have a boy waiting for his phone call or that he isn’t just a figment of Renjun’s twisted fantasies. </span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about it?”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were going to tell me you loved me.” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mark, come on, we don’t have much time.” A new plot device will be spun into their storyline in a matter of minutes but Mark continues to stare at the sunset.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Renjun, look at how pretty the sky is.” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It is. The birth of twilight has always been a pretty sight. Renjun’s always loved this part.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Renjun, can you look at me?” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Mark is sunken and sallow in his cheeks now. The time has ebbed faster because they’ve broken the rules. Renjun broke the rules by letting Mark come to his senses. Sue him for craving genuine human connection.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re still handsome.” Renjun isn’t actually sure if he wants to cry or it has become second nature to him at this point.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve always been a bad liar.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Mark takes a step towards him, the black, inky universe leaking from his eyes. Presses a deep kiss into his mouth before he plunges his skeleton of a hand into Renjun’s chest and yanks out his heart from his ribcage. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Like how every first love ends, it leaves you hollow.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>But he doesn’t wake up a villain in hell like he should have. For subjecting a young boy who he was sure was the love of his life to his fantastical whims that came at the expense of his fucking heart and robbing someone of their entire livelihood to chase after something unattainable, he sure deserved it.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>But he wakes up in his old bedroom, with its peeling wallpaper and dusty shelves. Someone stomps their way up the stairs.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on babe, you said you’d wake up in time for my swim meet!”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Mark leans against his doorframe with this twinkle in his eye. Swimmer boy Mark Lee, in all his beauty.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Renjun entertains the thought of just closing his eyes and hoping to meet a demon of some sort who will allot him time in Magic Prison or what not. This is wrong. He and Mark shouldn’t be here right now. Together.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet, Mark waltzes over, tugs the blanket off Renjun, and straddles him.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mark I—” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sh, the walls can hear you.” He leans down to kiss Renjun, rendering him speechless when he pins him down by the shoulders. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Making quickwork of his shirt while still kissing Renjun within an inch of his life, he tears his chest open by the divot between his muscles and feels around. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Renjun can’t even open his eyes fast enough to register the sound of an organ being pulled out a warm body, let alone the same organ being pressed into the cavity in his chest. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It sinks in like quicksand and Renjun howls in pain. Mark is relentless, forcing his mouth open while he continues to push his hand inside. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The world narrows and he can’t breathe.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Like all first loves, it leaves you afraid of what comes next when you know you’re going to love them forever. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Renjun’s first love is Mark and the harbinger of dreams and death grants him a wish for no other reason than that.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We take no responsibility of what may occur from this point on, do you understand this?</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Of course. </span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mark stares at the dying sun and at his own hands where he can see the reflection of his face in the blood.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe he can redeem himself this time.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>as always, favourite line?</p><p><a href="https://twitter.com/renminsungs">twt</a> + <a href="https://curiouscat.qa/98mbins">cc</a></p><p>update: i realised belatedly how convoluted this entire thing reads [scratches head guiltily] however! i've made a <a href="http://caihong.dreamwidth.org/">dreamwidth</a> account and my first entry states some important headcanons i should have clarified + some other thoughts on this- do read if you are confused or would like to read more neopunch ramble ^^</p><p>please continue to support and fight for <a href="https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/">black lives</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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